Otto stood in front of the airlock, Karro and Braes behind him.

It was what he expected. He would step forward, a wall would close behind him, and the room would slowly fill with water. It would gradually pressurize until it was the same as the ocean outside, and then, a wall would open up in front of him, connecting him from the false womb to the real deal.

Karro had given him a pair of goggles to wear on his way back, ones that would show crystals embedded in the top of the airlock glowing brightly in his vision so he could make his way back.

That wasn’t the only gift. Jola hadn’t been lying, although Karro and Braes were quick to assure him it would all function under water. They had tested it. Most of it. Some of it.

In theory, they said, it should work. Probably.

He wore a skin-tight wetsuit, one that was a shade above pitch black. They thankfully had one in his size – this wasn’t something his wardrobe could conjure – having expected the slim, slim possibility for a situation like this one. It would, apparently, allow Karro and Braes to track him from the facility, had some rudimentary defensive capabilities being made of some kind of aquatic super-alien-Kevlar, and would keep him warm. Or, as warm as you could be in the depths of the ocean.

It did nothing for the pressure. They were most worried about that, but Otto wasn’t. After sticking his finger out of the Preemptive Turret’s chamber, he was confident that [Abyssal Body] could handle it. It was where they dwelled, after all.

Strapped to his side was an energy pistol of some kind, and in his hands was an energy rifle of the same kind, only larger. Stronger, and more likely to punch through the Feeder’s thick scales. On his opposite side was, to the naked eye, a handle. It was actually an energy dagger – or something, he couldn’t remember any of the official names and the translations didn’t help – which was basically a mini lightsaber. Under normal circumstances, he would be pretty excited about that. He wasn’t even a big Star Wars fan, but it appealed to something primal in him.

Unfortunately, something else primal was ruling his brain right now. Fear was soaked into his bones, freezing him before he even touched the cold water. From behind, Karro and Braes called encouragement, but he didn’t hear them. The only thing he heard was his own rising heartbeat, and the voice in the back of his head.

Hero. It repeated.

He didn’t want it. He wasn’t a hero; he meant what he said to Maleera. He wasn’t brave, he wasn’t charismatic, he wasn’t he wasn’t anything that a hero was.

“I hate horror movies.” He said aloud. Braes and Karro glanced at each other, probably wondering if the translation was off.

“I’m bad at watching them. I hate being scared. Kim and Tobe always made fun of me for it. They wanted to go to the drive in on Halloween because they were showing the classics, and I was hiding behind a pillow half the time.”

Otto sighed.

“I miss them. If only they could see me now.”

He stepped into the airlock. The entrance sealed behind him.

From the floor, water bubbled up. It touched the soles of his feet, then it rose to his ankles, and before he knew it, it was up to his thighs.

The water was cold, frigidly so, but it didn’t bother him as much as it should have. Before gaining his class, he would have been clawing at the walls to get out. Now, it was cold, a bit uncomfortable, but it felt good. It felt how he imagined people who loved cold showers thought they felt; cool, refreshing, a cold that washed over you and left something better in its place.

The water reached his neck, and he fought his inner instincts to bang on the walls and get out. He had to push through.

It reached his chin.

It covered his mouth.

It covered his nose.

And then, he was fully submerged.

Otto hadn’t taken a breath before going under. He thought it might interfere with what he hoped was his class’ natural ability, one he hoped [Abyssal Body] came with.

He didn’t inhale. He, to his own surprise, didn’t even feel the urge to. His lungs were still and unmoving, but he felt no desire to breathe, nor any discomfort. A minute passed, and he felt exactly the same.

That’s good. He thought. It would have been embarrassing if I had to return immediately because my Leviathan class doesn’t let me breathe underwater.

The pressurization had already started, and Otto didn’t notice. There was a faint changing in the water, akin to how he felt when [Leviathan’s Mass] was on, but not quite. It’s sibling perhaps, but not identical.

The pressurization reached the peak, and at last, the doors slid open before him.

It was pitch black. He didn’t know what he expected – for [Abyssal Body] to kick in and let him see clearly maybe, but that was being hopeful. He’d asked Braes and Karro if they had anything that could help, but they had said no. Nothing that worked underwater and at such depths, anyway.

Hesitantly, Otto swam out. The door slid shut behind him, and he floated in the darkness. A void on all sides, he couldn’t even tell which way was up or down. He reached up to touch his forehead, and to his surprise, he could see his hand.

Faintly, but it was there. The further he pulled it away, the less he could see, but it seemed in his immediate area he had some vision. Beyond that though, it was all spilled ink.

He paddled through the water, and it had never felt more natural. He was never a bad swimmer, but now, he glided through the water. Each kick of his feet or paddle of his arms carried him further than ever before, deeper into the darkness, even with the rifle in his arms.

After several minutes of swimming around, Otto realized something.

I really should have asked for a way to find a Feeder.

Swimming around aimlessly would probably work eventually, but it also was a terrible idea for innumerable reasons, chief of all being that he really didn’t want to be in the water longer than he had to. Even if his Leviathan class was singing to him right now that what he was doing was correct, the scared powerless teenager was on the brink of wetting himself.

Otto was somewhere in the middle. So when a fish swam by close enough that he could catch its shape in the water, he had two very conflicting instincts.

Attack!

Run away!

The wires in his brain crossed, and he stayed perfectly still. The fish passed by – it was translucent and had no visible eyes from the glance he got, sinuous and shimmying through the water. By the time he made up his mind, it was already gone.

The encounter wasn’t anything to write home about, but Otto felt his heart beat faster. It was all confirmation of something he already knew.

I’m not alone.

The search for a Feeder continued. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty.

Otto floated through the darkness, a speck of infinity. His nerves were on edge, but after so long, it was difficult to keep the same level of fear. He didn’t get comfortable, but his anxiety dulled, and he began to almost enjoy the calm silence of the deep sea.

Then, he saw a wall.

Otto paddled back immediately. The wall was wide and green, segmented like plates of metal layered on a suit of armor. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t looking at a wall at all, but a creature.

His heart pounded in his ears. The creature glided forwards, almost out of his vision, in no hurry. Otto kicked closer, trying to get a closer glimpse.

The front of it came into focus, including one large eye on this side, and Otto felt himself tense in fear and sigh in relief at the same time.

It was a Feeder.

The eye’s pupil rolled in his direction, and the creature emitted a low rumble.

The vibration shook his bones at such a close distance, but he didn’t immediately flee like his instincts told him. He stood his ground, but that was all he could muster, staring back at the massive eye.

That was a step too far for the Feeder, apparently. It turned, faster than he expected, wide mouth opening to reveal flat, powerful teeth.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Otto kicked away, narrowly avoiding the bite. The vibration grew louder and more powerful, pulsing in an eerie rhythm. Any sweat he produced was carried away in the ocean while he fumbled with the rifle, eventually flipping the safety Braes and Karro had pointed out to him.

He aimed the barrel towards the thankfully large target, and pressed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

“Shit.” He said out loud, dropping the rifle and paddling to the side as the Feeder lunged again. The teeth clamping together shook the immediate area, and Otto flailed through the water before catching his balance again.

His words felt weird coming out, but he didn’t have time to focus on that. He pulled on the pistol at his side, but it was stuck. He yanked hard, losing his grip on it. His wetsuit and the heavy pistol slapped against his side, and he winced in pain.

The energy dagger slid out easily, and to his relief, actually turned on.

A thin beam of light emerged from the head, glasslike in its appearance, reaching barely a foot out. It came to a rather geometric point, all harsh and even lines, and Otto stabbed it into the Feeder’s side.

The blade sunk in to the hilt. The Feeder didn’t react.

Otto had to let go and swim back before the Feeder twisted its head in his direction, and he still almost lost his foot. He could spot the hilt sticking out of its side, a tiny barnacle on a body larger than a blue whale – a creature that had no right being so maneuverable – still emitting a little light from the superficial wound he had inflicted.

In fact, he didn’t know if it was a wound at all. They had thick scales; it might not have even felt it.

He dodged out of the way of a few more lunges, and came to a reluctant conclusion.

The Feeder was unlikely to kill him. As long as he stayed moving and alert, he was too quick and maneuverable to get caught in its jaws, even though it was far faster than it should be if it had any respect for him or God. He was unlikely to tire before it did as well; that was all good news.

The bad news was that he had no idea how to hurt it. He could maybe carve his way inside with enough time and effort using the energy dagger still sticking out of its side, but it was far more likely that it would finally catch him when he lingered in close proximity, or that it would swim away. He could presumably catch up, but unless he was willing to follow for miles at a time, he didn’t see himself carving a big enough wound to kill it in time.

Otto finally unhooked the energy pistol, and a glimmer of hope filled his heart. He undid the safety, pointed it at the Feeder right between the eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The front glowed for an instant, and then, it fizzled out.

Otto clicked the trigger a dozen more times before cursing and throwing it to the ocean floor to join the rifle. He ducked under the Feeder’s lunge, scowling.

It really was a dumb creature. It was also very sturdy. It was no wonder the preemptive turret needed to charge up enough to shake the whole facility just to punch through.

What do I do? He thought, circling the Feeder while it did the same to him. Despite it’s lack of intelligence, he spotted a bit of irritation in its gaze. He was counting that as a win.

His mind raced to figure something out. The Feeder lunged, and he dodged close, passing by within an arm’s reach.

Out of old instinct, he snapped a punch. His fist struck the side painfully, like he had just punched a slightly less hard brick wall. He pulled it back and felt tears spring to his eyes.

Nice one, idiot. The annoying voice whispered in the back of his head. Punch the giant fish. Good plan.

His hand didn’t feel broken, but it smarted enough that the Feeder nearly relieved him of the limb when he dodged late. Instead, he dodged close again, getting a good look at the Feeder’s side. There was no mark from his punch. Shocking.

Otto’s mind drifted to his old boxing lessons with his grandfather. Something stuck out to him, something his grandfather had said after he’d thrown his first punch.

“I’m an engineer, Otto. The world is numbers and equations – you understand a bit, I know. You like math, don’t you? Good. Math is important, and if you can understand and apply it, it’s one of the most powerful, dangerous things in the world.”

“When you throw a punch, it’s all about momentum. Momentum is made up of two things: Mass, and velocity. You can either move faster and hit harder, or weigh more. They have a

multiplicative effect on one another. The pros – they’re fast and heavy. They hit hard, and they hit fast. That’s how they knock people out in one punch.”

Otto shifted out of the way of the Feeder’s next lunge. His hand balled up into a familiar shape, and he felt [Leviathan’s Mass] run through his body.

The Feeder’s demeanor changed in an instant, but it was too late. His fist connected, and this time, the scales cracked.

The Feeder was pushed back a bit from the impact. His fist stung, but not as much as the first time he’d punched it. He dropped [Leviathan’s Mass] and began circling the Feeder, which looked back, eyes filled with confusion and fear.

Momentum. He thought. The Feeder lunged, more frenzied than usual, fearful. He dodged to the side, and on the same spot, he punched. As he swung, he activated [Leviathan’s Mass] again, striking hard.

Mass times velocity. I’m moving just as fast as always, but my mass is immensely increased. The result is the hardest punch I’ve ever thrown.

This time, he felt something crunch. The Feeder spun from the impact, shaking itself back and forth in a very human way as it looked back at him. [Leviathan’s Mass] was already gone, and he could only imagine how the Feeder felt.

Afraid, was the answer. It turned to flee, but Otto felt something change in his chest. He pursued it doggedly, catching up with contemptuous ease. The Feeder eyed him with confusion and took a hesitant bite.

Too slow. He ducked under, and this time, he pushed [Leviathan’s Mass] to its limit. He felt himself grow as dense as he could be, and his fist connected with its jaw.

It tore through scale and muscle, and blood leaked into the water. The Feeder twitched and started to swim away, but in the moments Otto began to pursue, it slowed, and slowed.

And stopped.

The Feeder floated unmoving. Its eyes were lifeless, and Otto became aware of his heart thundering in his ears. His anxiety’s slammed into him again, and pain thrummed in his fists. He grimaced and looked down at his hands, every movement painful. They would be bruised terribly, of that he was certain, and he was afraid he might have fractured one at the very least. Unless he was lucky, he would be joining Yaris in the stiff-glove club soon.

What got into me? Otto thought. He had hunted down the Feeder and it had felt right. Not just something he had to do; it felt like it was what he was made to do. He stopped thinking about the facility, about Braes or Karro, about anything. There was only him and the Feeder, and one would be victorious. He felt, deeper than just his bones, inside something he didn’t understand, that he would be that winner. It was a fact the same as gravity, the same as mass.

Otto pulled the goggles out and slipped them over his head. The Feeder was dead, and that meant his job was miraculously done. He looked around, trying to find the crystals embedded in the facility leading to the airlock, seeing nothing. He turned all the way around, and came face to face with an eye.

It was vast. Beyond massive, it was larger than the biggest Feeder in the ocean. It became the ocean itself, a horizon unto itself. Glowing yellow with rings of deep red, the pupil focused on him and him alone.

Otto froze. The Feeder corpse floated gently down, passing over the pupil, and drifting lower. He swallowed hard and looked back. He let go of [Leviathan’s Mass] immediately.

The standoff lasted seconds, but Otto was sure it had been hours. Even if he had felt the urge to breathe, he didn’t think he was capable. The eye emitted a presence to it, a pressure that physically pressed down on him the way the deep sea never seemed to.

The eye blinked once.

A tentacle as thick as a Greek pillar wrapped around the Feeder’s corpse and pulled it out of sight.

It blinked once more, and then, it closed.

The deep sea became pitch darkness once more, no longer illuminated by the sun that was its eye. He felt water shift rapidly around him and was almost pulled into the artificial current created by its passing. He had to actively swim against it to avoid being dragged along, and as he did, he felt an impression of its shape. It was instinctive, like he could see the still image of the vacuum of water left by its passing.

A serpentine shape miles long with tentacles growing off of it like cancerous growths, or body hair. Varying thickness and size, but all capable of wrapping around and crushing a creature in an instant.

Only one word came to mind to describe it.

That is a real leviathan.

He only wondered why it left him alive/

* * *

Otto finally spotted the crystals and followed them back to the airlock. He approached, floating inside, lighter than he had been before he left. Physically, he no longer had any of the no-doubt expensive weaponry they had given him to assist in killing the Feeder, but he didn’t feel bad about that. If they complained about losing a few weapons in return for not getting crushed by a leviathan, he would swim back out there and beg it to kill them all.

Mentally, he was relaxed. Giddy, almost, in a way that was no doubt manic. He had stared his death in the eyes, and somehow, come out of it alive. His hands throbbed with pain, but it was superficial, unimportant compared to what he had experienced. An inconsequential footnote in what was otherwise the most incredible, harrowing, terrifying experience of his entire life.

How am I alive? The refrain rang in his brain ever since the leviathan swam away, and it never stopped. He wasn’t sure it ever would. Even the cynical voice in the back of his head was quiet, just as shocked as he was.

The water drained away, and the doors opened to the facility. Braes and Karro were tense, standing beyond the door. He stepped out, dripping water onto the ground. They looked at him nervously.

“Done.” He said, expression impassive. Despite his weirdly good mood, he found himself unwilling to share it with them. Braes exhaled in relief, shaking her head with nerves. She looked at him with wide eyes.

“You must have left in the nick of time.” She said. “The giant creature was drifting closer steadily, but slowly, until all of a sudden it sped up. It rushed to your location, but it must have arrived just after you left. You’re having luckiness.”

Otto froze at the words. “Yeah that’s-that wouldn’t have been good.” Was the best he could muster as response.

Karro nodded. “It’s done, though?” He asked, looking at Braes. “It left?”

She nodded, and a smile blossomed on her face. “It’s done.” She turned to Otto.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She met his eyes while she said it, and he felt himself turn bright red. He almost wished he was back in a stare down with a leviathan.

“Uh.” He said eloquently, “Yeah. Glad I could help.” He said, wincing after. Neither of them seemed to notice the awkwardness. They were too busy celebrating, almost crying from relief.

Otto understood. The idea of a leviathan of that scale destroying the facility was no longer a distant imaginary exercise. He saw its size, felt its power. It could shatter the walls of the facility with less effort than it had expended blinking.

“One last thing.” Braes said, turning a bit more serious. “Don’t tell the others about this. Even though it’s taken care of – I don’t want them having stress extra.” She said, pausing after. Her expression soured, and she looked up.

“Besides. We are having no guarantees this will be the last time we must ask you to do this.”

Otto felt the wind get sucked out of his sails, but he nodded. He understood, now more than ever, that it was necessary.

His hands flared in pain, and he grimaced, cradling them. Braes and Karro looked at him with concern.

“Are you okay?” Karro asked. Braes shot him a glare.

“Do you see him? Of course he’s not okay!” She snapped. She placed hand on his shoulder and guided him forwards. “Come on. We’re going to the infirmary.”

Otto groaned from the pain. With each step, he felt the stiff-glove wrapping around his hands, tighter and tighter. He tried to be bothered by the thought, but he just couldn’t muster it.

The leviathan’s eye was emblazoned in his mind. From the moment he returned until he was laying, staring at the ceiling in the infirmary – not wearing stiff-gloves yet – it was all he could think about. He still felt like he was being watched. Studied, not sized up. Analyzed. Appraised.

Judged.

When sleep finally took him, he thought he felt it blink again. And finally, the sensation was gone.

His hands hurt even more.